Michael and the man in the suit sat at a dusty old kitchen table in the farmhouse. The rest of the men in balaclavas waited outside. At least two of them were carrying guns from what Michael had seen.
The small box was in the middle of the table.
"How does it work?" asked the man.
"I don't know."
"Come on, Michael. We both know you're the expert on this."
"Am I? I don't know anything."
"Don't be so modest."
"No, it's true. I remember nothing from before when I was lying in that field. What happened before that? Who am I?"
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